


Chase the Sun

by Burningchaos



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, M/M, Violence, Work Up For Adoption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-05-29
Updated: 2009-03-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2051319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burningchaos/pseuds/Burningchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John dies, Rodney doesn't even though he wishes he had. Aftermath and recovery of the death of a loved one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rodney sat in his car, well, the car he had borrowed and pulled over less than ten minutes outside of the base. The trees and road that should have seemed familiar were more alien to him than any world he had been to in recent years. He had felt crowded and trapped by the commotion and noise the second he stepped outside. The air lacked the salty smell he had grown to love. Instead, the thick cloying scent of pollution was choking his every breath. The sky was too pale and the trees not green enough. In Pegasus, every color lept out to greet you.

The Earth was a watercolor, where as Pegasus was painted in oils.

He was ‘home’ on his ‘vacation’, his first since the Daedalus had arrived three years ago. He didn’t want to be here. Not like this. Rodney leaned his head on the steering wheel and, as he took a deep breath, pain lanced through him. Damn it. Ribs, ribs, ribs…no deep breaths for a while.

The fight to stay in Atlantis hadn’t lasted long at all. In fact, it had been frighteningly easy to force him to leave. Rodney hadn’t been anywhere near his best when Kate, Carson, Elizabeth and Caldwell had teamed up on him. In all reality it was Kate who had told Caldwell and Elizabeth to force him to leave, ‘broken’ was the word she used. Yeah, so send him to Earth for two weeks and expect him to be normal when he returned. The mere thought of being ‘normal’ again had him shaking. Post-traumatic stress he had been told. Carson was in on all this too. Rodney wouldn’t forget it either. He had a long shit list and it was getting longer every second.

 

Rodney snorted at the thought, than winced in pain as he quickly realized that snorting was as bad as taking a deep breath. His body continued to ache as he pulled the car back onto the road. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

~*~

Three days, three days with room service, television and access to almost anything he wanted. Except the one thing he really, really wanted. Make that two things he really wanted.

Rodney scratched the stitches in his arm and side, wincing as he did. He couldn’t understand how this was going to help him heal. He had no one to call, no one he wanted to even if he did. He was sitting _alone_ in a motel room. It wasn’t even a good room. It’s garish colors and flower print bedspread gave the room a distinctly seventies look. He wanted to go home.

Carefully, Rodney braced his ribs with one hand and used the free one to pull himself up. He had no work, and the lack of activity was driving him insane. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t even close his eyes. Every time he did the accident played out in his mind repeatedly.

Moving as quickly as his battered body would allow Rodney went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He was at a total loss. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything but what _he_ had done wrong.

Looking into the mirror, Rodney realized the face staring back at him now belonged to a stranger. It was thin and pallid, with half-healed cuts and abrasions scattered over his forehead and cheeks. He stared a moment longer, running his hand over each bruise, tracing them slowly as if they weren’t part of him. As he did this rage, swift and powerful, rushed though him. Destroying what little control he had.

Without thought to his ribs or stitches, Rodney punched his reflection. He felt it shatter and the shards sunk into his skin. Blood ran in thin rivulets down his hand as he turned it over to look at the damage. Laughter, hysterical and mixed with sobs ripped it’s way out of him.

Rodney staggered back. This was it. This is where he fell apart.

Part of him knew John wouldn’t have wanted this. He wouldn’t want Rodney to grieve this way. But John wasn’t here now. He was gone.

John was gone and that was the only thought that Rodney could focus on. It was all he could do to get out of bed every morning. He took every breath knowing it was him, not John who should have died. Every second of the day he saw and felt John’s bloody, broken body as if it were still growing cold in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to wake up and discover all this was a terrible nightmare. It wasn’t, and Rodney knew it because it hurt to much to be anything but real.

He could never heal like this, and he would never be able to walk around Atlantis without looking for John. Two weeks wouldn’t be enough. A lifetime might not be. Atlantis and John were irrevocable tied together.

Which meant he couldn’t go back. Ever.

~*~

Rodney didn’t return to the SGC after his two-week ‘vacation’ was up. He didn’t call anyone, he didn’t leave any letters or e-mails. Landry and O’Neill used up favors and called in markers but it was no use. Doctor Rodney McKay had emptied his considerable bank account, sold anything he still owned and cashed in all his stocks; then quietly disappeared.

However, he had left behind all the money John left him.


	2. Chapter 2

Rodney sat in his car, well, the car he had borrowed and pulled over less than ten minutes outside of the base. The trees and road that should have seemed familiar were more alien to him than any world he had been to in recent years. He had felt crowded and trapped by the commotion and noise the second he stepped outside. The air lacked the salty smell he had grown to love. Instead, the thick cloying scent of pollution was choking his every breath. The sky was too pale and the trees not green enough. In Pegasus, every color lept out to greet you.

The Earth was a watercolor, where as Pegasus was painted in oils.

He was ‘home’ on his ‘vacation’, his first since the Daedalus had arrived three years ago. He didn’t want to be here. Not like this. Rodney leaned his head on the steering wheel and, as he took a deep breath, pain lanced through him. Damn it. Ribs, ribs, ribs…no deep breaths for a while.

The fight to stay in Atlantis hadn’t lasted long at all. In fact, it had been frighteningly easy to force him to leave. Rodney hadn’t been anywhere near his best when Kate, Carson, Elizabeth and Caldwell had teamed up on him. In all reality it was Kate who had told Caldwell and Elizabeth to force him to leave, ‘broken’ was the word she used. Yeah, so send him to Earth for two weeks and expect him to be normal when he returned. The mere thought of being ‘normal’ again had him shaking. Post-traumatic stress he had been told. Carson was in on all this too. Rodney wouldn’t forget it either. He had a long shit list and it was getting longer every second.

 

Rodney snorted at the thought, than winced in pain as he quickly realized that snorting was as bad as taking a deep breath. His body continued to ache as he pulled the car back onto the road. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

~*~

Three days, three days with room service, television and access to almost anything he wanted. Except the one thing he really, really wanted. Make that two things he really wanted.

Rodney scratched the stitches in his arm and side, wincing as he did. He couldn’t understand how this was going to help him heal. He had no one to call, no one he wanted to even if he did. He was sitting _alone_ in a motel room. It wasn’t even a good room. It’s garish colors and flower print bedspread gave the room a distinctly seventies look. He wanted to go home.

Carefully, Rodney braced his ribs with one hand and used the free one to pull himself up. He had no work, and the lack of activity was driving him insane. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t even close his eyes. Every time he did the accident played out in his mind repeatedly.

Moving as quickly as his battered body would allow Rodney went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He was at a total loss. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything but what _he_ had done wrong.

Looking into the mirror, Rodney realized the face staring back at him now belonged to a stranger. It was thin and pallid, with half-healed cuts and abrasions scattered over his forehead and cheeks. He stared a moment longer, running his hand over each bruise, tracing them slowly as if they weren’t part of him. As he did this rage, swift and powerful, rushed though him. Destroying what little control he had.

Without thought to his ribs or stitches, Rodney punched his reflection. He felt it shatter and the shards sunk into his skin. Blood ran in thin rivulets down his hand as he turned it over to look at the damage. Laughter, hysterical and mixed with sobs ripped it’s way out of him.

Rodney staggered back. This was it. This is where he fell apart.

Part of him knew John wouldn’t have wanted this. He wouldn’t want Rodney to grieve this way. But John wasn’t here now. He was gone.

John was gone and that was the only thought that Rodney could focus on. It was all he could do to get out of bed every morning. He took every breath knowing it was him, not John who should have died. Every second of the day he saw and felt John’s bloody, broken body as if it were still growing cold in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to wake up and discover all this was a terrible nightmare. It wasn’t, and Rodney knew it because it hurt to much to be anything but real.

He could never heal like this, and he would never be able to walk around Atlantis without looking for John. Two weeks wouldn’t be enough. A lifetime might not be. Atlantis and John were irrevocable tied together.

Which meant he couldn’t go back. Ever.

~*~

Rodney didn’t return to the SGC after his two-week ‘vacation’ was up. He didn’t call anyone, he didn’t leave any letters or e-mails. Landry and O’Neill used up favors and called in markers but it was no use. Doctor Rodney McKay had emptied his considerable bank account, sold anything he still owned and cashed in all his stocks; then quietly disappeared.

However, he had left behind all the money John left him.


	3. Chapter 3

“Aw, Christ. Mitchell, you ass, get in here. What do you think, that we’re naked all the time?” Jack snapped. Cameron hesitantly opened the door and peered around. He relaxed when he saw Daniel reaching into the older-than-dirt fridge while Jack was cleaning several fish. Miracles do happen. Jack actually **caught** the fish, this time.

“No, Jack, just most of the time. Like yesterday…” Daniel couldn’t help but laugh as he reminded Jack oh so subtly how they’d had to rush around the room searching for their clothes when they heard Cameron noisily whistling up the walk, only to still be half-naked when walked he in.

“Aw, Christ. Danny, do ya have to bring that up? We, we…”Cameron quickly interrupted Jack.

“Yeah, you were. And let me tell you, you do have a wonderful ass. But you know, I could have lived without seeing it in such a…up close and personal way.” He threw in a dramatic shudder just to make sure Jack got the point.

“Gee, thanks, you’re so generous. Daniel, you have to put up with that every day? How is it he's still alive???” Jack loudly severed the head off one of the fish he’d caught as he spoke.

Daniel threw Cameron a wicked glance before walking over toward the counter. “Well it’s like this, Jack. He's wonderful to cuddle with off world.” Still grinning, Daniel danced out of Jack’s reach as his lover reached out to swat him on the ass.

Cameron loved watching the two of them. He’d hit it off with Daniel pretty easily and once the General had been convinced he wasn’t going to get Daniel killed, they’d hit it off too. Being with the two of them was amazing. Despite the wandering around he did to give them alone time, he never felt left out. They welcomed him and made him feel like family.

“I assume since you've returned, that you have either exhausted all the options for entertainment in town or your stomach was demanding your return.” Daniel had moved back to the refrigerator and started pulling out the makings for sandwiches and a salad.

“Yes to option one and no, I’ve eaten.” He headed over to the counter and watched Jack skin the rest of tonight’s dinner. “I ran in to this guy today. I know I’ve heard his name before, but I can’t place who he is.”

“I hate that.” Daniel quipped quickly.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause you do that _so_ often.” Jack muttered darkly.

Cameron cleared his throat loudly to avert the oncoming snark fest. “So, back to what I was saying before being so rudely interrupted. I had lunch with this guy, and I know I’ve heard his name before, and I think at the mountain too...”

Jack grunted as he continued to gut the fish. “Well, spill it Mitchell, we don’t have all night.”

Daniel looked up from the salad he’d started making. “Actually…”

“You are such a smart ass…” Jack’s voice was suffused with affection.

“Yeah, you guys are impossible to hold a conversation with.” Any other time he would enjoy this, but not now. No, right now he was frustrated as hell and dying to figure out who the hell McKay was. Daniel and Jack both shot him slightly guilty looks and gave him their attention.

“So, I was heading back from town when I ran into this guy. Scared as hell, quiet too.” Cameron pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. “I’ve seen quite a few guys who were messed up but this…” Cameron shook his head, not sure how to get his point across. “His arms were covered with scars and I think he might have been covering some on his face with his beard.”

“Okay then, what was his name?” Jack casually leaned against the counter his expression bordering on impatient.

“Rodney McKay.”

“McKay? You did say McKay, right?” Daniel and Jack said as one. How did anyone _not_ know they were a couple was beyond him. Seriously, they had to be imbeciles to not see it.

“Hey, whoa, hold up.” Cameron raised his hand and received the _look_. Damn, Jack was as good at that as his grandma was.

“Mitchell.” Jack growled. Ok, time to talk fast, real fast. Jack was doing that snarling thing he did when he wanted information.

Cameron sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and watched Daniel and Jack do the same. “I was heading back from town, and I ran into him. Who is he???”

“Dr. Rodney McKay…” the second Cameron heard Daniel say the scientist’s name again, he realized exactly who the man he’d spoken to was. He was such an idiot.

“Oh, shit…” Cameron quickly started telling them all he’d found and the longer he spoke the more agitated his friends became. When Cameron began to describe McKay’s appearance Jack stood, swore and kicked his chair across the room. “Fuck.” Moving quickly, Daniel stepped in front of Jack, touched his arm and slid it up until he was cupping the back of his lover’s neck. Cameron was amazed. Jack instantly calmed down and quietly rested his forehead against Daniel’s, his posture now relaxed as he took a deep breath.

“You did everything you could, Jack. There was no way you could have found him out here, especially since he went to such lengths to hide.” Rational and calm, Daniel was as dependable as always.

“Three years. Three years.” Jack was clearly pissed and frustrated.

Cameron rubbed the back of his neck. He’d known Jack and Daniel, not to mention Sam, had been extremely upset when McKay had disappeared. Doctors Weir, Beckett, and Zelenka had returned to Earth as soon as they had found out McKay was missing. Not that it had helped. They had spent weeks looking before they’d given up hope. Most were convinced the grieving scientist had committed suicide. Cameron callously thought that maybe McKay would have been better if he did. The man looked terrible and from what he’d heard in town, was barely functioning.

“So, what are you going to do? Are we going to leave him here?” Cameron felt more than a little useless. He hadn’t known McKay then. For that matter, he hadn’t known Sheppard that well either. The colonel had seemed nice enough the few times they’d met and it had been obvious he had loved McKay. Cameron felt guilty for his earlier thoughts. McKay was hiding. Cameron was sure that his friends were going to drag the former scientist back into the world.

The man obviously needed help. It was screamingly evident. The McKay Cameron had heard about was vibrant, a little bit mouthy and never afraid to tell you _exactly_ what he thought about you, your ideas, your intelligence and more often than not, your overwhelming idiocy. The McKay he’d met was as far from that as they were from Atlantis. Maybe further.

“I honestly don’t know.” Daniel was leaning against the counter now while Jack paced back and forth. “If we go see him he may run, but at the same time…” Daniel shrugged helplessly as he trailed off. “I don’t think he’d want to see us. Truthfully, seeing people he knows, knew, and right now might not be the best thing. He needs a more gradual approach, possibly someone not so close to the situation.”

“He doesn’t know me.” Cameron voiced quietly. God, he was sure he was going to regret this. Solving the mystery that was McKay was one thing; this was something else all together. This was like taking on a mission where you knew you should be getting hazardous duty pay but weren’t. “I’ll go talk to him. See what I can do.”

Silence blanketed the room. Cameron could feel the weight of it pressing down on him while he waited for someone to say something.

“That might work.” Jack murmured quietly. “I know it did for me.” The older man stared at Daniel as he spoke and Cameron decided that now was a good time to slip out of the cabin and leave them alone again.

 

~*~

Rodney panted; his chest wasn’t as tight as it had been when he’d stepped though the door but he still needed his meds. He pulled himself to his knees and slowly crawled across the floor. He reached up and grabbed the counter to pull himself up and in the process knocked a plate to the floor. It almost seemed as it were falling in slow motion. The sound it made when it hit the floor reverberated throughout his cabin. Suddenly all he could hear was the crack of gunfire and the metallic scent of blood.

He fell back against the counter and tried desperately to stave off the barrage of memories threatening to overwhelm him. Rodney could feel the tears sliding down his face and hear the sobs that were being ripped from his chest. He was losing, he was losing and oh, god he didn’t want to…

_”Rodney, we need to hurry.” John reached down to grab his hand as they struggled up the rain slick hill. Bullets slammed into the mud near their feet as they tried to put more distance between them and their pursuers._

_“How far now?” Rodney panted as his foot slipped again. He was terrified and he hurt all over, not that John didn’t look as bad as he did. It had taken hours to dig themselves out._

_“Just over this ridge, come on.” John reached over and snagged his pack. “Do you need anything in here other than your laptop?” Rodney could hear how winded John was, and that just sent an entirely different type of fear flooding through him._

_“No…”_

The memories ebbed and flowed like waves. Battering and receding, only to return stronger each time. Rodney bit his lip and tasted blood as he swallowed. He looked around but the room was empty. The only voices he heard, the only shouts were his and those in his memories. He tried to think about something else, anything. He desperately tried to remember the night before John had died. He tried to dredge up the sound of John’s laugher, the way his body had felt when they crawled in bed and inevitably ended up tangled in the sheets, drenched with sweat after fucking until they were too tired to move. But he couldn’t.

He hadn’t been able to since John died. All he could feel was the cold rain beating against his skin; he could smell the fetid stench of rotting grass and mold. He could see the faces of his friends and team mates as they covered him with a same type of blanket they’d covered John with. Standard military issue. He hadn’t complained, he hadn’t said a word as they all talked around him. He had heard the word shock muttered over and over. It had become the theme during his final days in Atlantis.

He’d wanted to die, he wanted to so badly he dreamed about it. But that wasn’t something he could do. But it seemed he could sit on his floor and sink further and further into debilitating memories, all the while crying until he had no more tears left to cry.

_”Good.” John pulled it out and dropped the bag. “Over there…” John pointed toward the trees that would offer them all the cover they needed till they reached the gate. Rodney looked at his lover and saw the blood pouring from the lacerations on his temple and arms, many of them mirroring his own wounds. He stumbled and John reached out to steady him. As he did, John jerked and fell against him for a moment._

_Rodney watched in horror as blood rapidly started to stain John’s shirt. “Oh, god, oh fuck…” Rodney couldn’t hold him and they tumbled to the ground. He desperately tried to cover the wound and he knew, he knew this was it. He could see blood frothing at the corner of John’s mouth as he tried to speak. “Shhh,” Rodney choked. Even with the rain, John’s blood was pooling on the ground beneath them, and terror unlike any he had never known was threatening to paralyze him._

_He could hear their pursuers' shouts as they ran toward them. “John, John…” Rodney watched as his lover struggled to breathe. He could hear the wet rattle over everything else. “Please, don’t…” Rodney bit though his lips as he struggled not to cry. “I love you.”_

_John struggled to lift his arm and touch his face before mouthing the words back to him. His eyes were fluttering and he was already so cold. Rodney could literally feel his lover’s pulse fading. John shuddered and then it stopped. He stopped breathing, his pulse was gone, he was gone and Rodney screamed. He knew it was futile, but that didn’t stop him from pounding on John’s chest and trying to breathe life back into him._

_Rodney struggled against the arms pulling him away from John and watched in horror as they poked at him and stabbed him to make sure he was dead. “Get the fuck off him!” Rodney kicked and struggled until his free hand reached the gun in one of his captor’s belts. “It was an accident! A fucking accident!” He pulled the gun out and fired off a shot before someone hit him from behind._

_“Your companion is dead. The blood debt you owed us has been paid.” The village leader stood tall and his voice was filled with satisfaction._

_“You bastard. Ferin had a simple cut he didn’t even need stitches. He wasn’t even with us when the tunnel _you__ dug collapsed, you fucking Neanderthals. He cut himself moving some of the rocks so we could get out.”

“It does not matter. He was injured in your service and therefore it was up to you to pay the price.”

The man holding him shoved him to the ground, kicked him and snarled. “You are free to go. Consider yourself lucky. We will let you take your dead home to bury him as you see fit.”

He crawled over to John and gathered him in his arms as the villagers walked away. Just as they disappeared from sight, Lorne’s team appeared. It was too late, it had been the moment the tunnel they’d been in collapsed, and their guide was injured. They just hadn't known it.

“McKay!” Rodney jerked away from the voice that had yanked him out of the terror he’d been trapped in. He dragged in deep, gulping breaths as he tried to push off the remnants of his memory. “McKay! Snap out of it.”

Mitchell. Rodney shook his head and grabbed the bottle that had landed on the floor next to him. He glanced at the label, popped the top and dry swallowed two valium. He looked at the man crouched down beside him and could feel the concern pouring off of him. “What time is it? When did you get here?”

Cameron looked at his watch and saw his arm was shaking. When he’d shoved the door open he hadn’t known what to expect. The cabin had seemed empty when he’d sat down on the weathered porch. “Ah, it is almost sixteen hundred and about an hour ago. I’d figured you were off walking or something so I hung out on your porch. Then I heard you scream, and well…” Cameron trailed off and sat on the floor next to him.

“Thank you.” Rodney cut off the oncoming babble. Sixteen hundred. He’d been trapped in a panic cycle for hours. Exhaustion washed over him leaving him too weak and tired to be embarrassed. Rodney laid his head back against the rough unfinished cabinet he was leaning against and closed his eyes.

Cameron sighed and let out a flat dry laugh. “Anytime, man. Anytime.”


	4. Chase the Sun

Cameron shifted and sighed before leaning his head back against the cabinet again. His ass was numb. For that matter, his legs were too. He wasn’t sure he could do this, not again. God, he didn’t even want to think about Matt, he couldn’t because if he did, nothing would stop him from running out of this cabin as if hellhounds were nipping at his heels. But the second Matt’s name tumbled across his conscious mind, everything every word, every image, every thought, every feeling came rushing back. Not that it ever stayed buried for long.

He’d been a life jacket before, but there were some differences this time. Matt had been his best friend. Hell. They had probably known each other in the womb, seeing as how their mothers had been best friends too. Matt had lost his family though, not his lover. A loss was a loss. Lover, friend, sister, brother, parents, grandparents, they all hurt and it was up to the ones left behind to deal with it and the emotions involved.

Like McKay, Matt had fallen apart. McKay had run away whereas Matt was put away. His best friend had slowly succumbed to the grief eating him inside and out. First, he swallowed every pill he owned and when that hadn’t worked, he’d shot himself. Cameron had tried, god, he'd tried and when Matt had finally succeeded he’d been devastated.

He’d never told anyone. How do you tell someone that, and why would you want to? Matt had wanted to fly as much as he did, so sometimes it felt as though he was living for the both of them. When he felt like that, he could handle it. Moments like now? Well, it was harder.

Making the choice to help McKay hadn’t been easy. He'd told himself he didn’t know what he was getting into, and he almost believed it until he showed up and heard McKay freaking out.

He only hoped he was strong enough this time.

The silence reigning over the room should have been oppressive, it should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. It was oddly comfortable and soothing. Rodney could feel Mitchell’s shoulder pressing against his. He'd avoiding touching in the same manner he’d avoiding speaking. They both invited familiarity and he didn’t want or need that. Cold, impersonal, neutral…those he could handle.

Rodney cleared his throat, flinching at the sound. “Ah, would…” he paused and looked over toward the man sitting next to him. He seemed nice enough. He wasn’t pushy and he didn’t offer those irritating ‘you’ll be fine’ platitudes. “Are you hungry?” Rodney felt his courage wilt as the words left his mouth. Cameron had seemed deep in thought and for some obscure reason he hoped the man wouldn’t want to leave even though he wanted him to at the same time.

Cameron smiled brightly; maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he thought. Maybe. He certainly hadn’t expected this. “Sure. That is, if you really want me to and you're not just offering cause you think you have to.”

Rodney took a deep breath. He could do this. “I…I’m not sure, but…yeah, I think so.” He could feel himself trembling even as his meds were sweeping through him, offering a false sense of calm. “Yeah, yeah…” Rodney looked at the mess he’d made.

“Cool.” Cameron looked at the floor and chuckled. “I think we need to clean up first, though.” And it was that easy. McKay, no, Rodney almost smiled. Almost, which gave Cameron a small glimmer of hope.  



	5. Chapter 5

Three days. Rodney hadn’t heard from or seen Cameron in three days. He wasn’t sure what he felt. Relief? Betrayal? Confused was definitely on the list. The other man pushed till he’d given in and then just…left. He hadn’t wanted company, no he hadn’t. But their lunch, awkward though it was, had been nice. The silences had been comfortable. The conversation a bit stilted, but he had never been big on social graces.

Rodney paced about his tiny cabin and tried to decide what to do. Panic lay coiled around his heart and lungs just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He knew it, he could feel the cold heavy weight in his chest. If he sought Cameron out he was walking away from his comfort zone. And if he did seek Cameron out that might mean seeing Jack and Daniel. Panic took a moment to tighten her python like body around him leaving him short of breath.

Could he do this? And why had it been three days? Was Cameron hurt? That really wasn’t something he wanted to consider. They’d made a connection, his first since…well, John. It wasn’t even in the same universe as what he and John had, but it was a tentative connection nonetheless. One he thought he might possibly want to not lose. Rodney rubbed his hands over his face and noticed his nails were bitten to the quick again. His nerves were fried just thinking about this.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. In for a count to twelve, exhale to the same. Breathe.

A knock on the door startled him and he stumbled forward with a squeak. “Hey, Rodney, are you home?”

“Of course I’m home you nitwit, I’m a recluse.” Rodney straightened himself up, walked over and opened the door.

Cameron’s lazy smile greeted him and for a moment Rodney couldn’t decide whether to yell at him for not being around, welcome him in or tell him to fuck off. “Huh, so I gather you have no life threatening injuries, wounds or other ailments I should know about?

“What?” Confusion marred Cameron’s face.

“Well it's been three days since I saw you last. You might have come in contact with something contagious. I don’t know if I should let you in.”

“Aw, geeze, Rodney. Don’t be such a woman.” Cameron immediately realized that was the wrong tactic when his friend started to shut the door. Cameron stepped back and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”

“That’s better.” Rodney stepped out of the doorway, letting Cameron in.

“I do have a reason, in case you were wondering.” Cameron went and sat down.

“Really?” Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and in that instant it hit him. He felt...alive. His body was vibrating; his former personality was enveloping him like a warm, slightly worn sweatshirt. It felt too big and he could feel it slipping, but still…it was there. Inside him still. That epiphany had him faltering over his words, stuttering almost, and as quickly as he’d grasped the fact that ‘he’ was still somewhere inside it had fallen off and he was once again the broken shell Cameron had met.

Cameron could see Rodney’s posture, his attitude, everything changing. He could see the other man practically crawling into himself. He hated that. The Rodney that had opened the door had been funny, confident and…attractive.

Huh. He certainty hadn’t seen that one coming. Cameron found himself slightly off balance as he searched for what he’d intended to say. “Yeah…really. And if you sit down I’ll tell you all about it.”

Rodney frowned. “Fine.” And sat down in the only other chair in what could be considered his living room.

“Jack forgot he wasn’t ten years old and tried to climb a tree.” Cameron frowned. ”Wait, let me back up. Jack had finally convinced Daniel to go fishing with him and when Daniel put Jack’s favorite aka ‘lucky fly’ in a tree he decided to go get it.”

“What?” Rodney tried not to laugh, it wasn’t funny. But the way Cameron told it made it hard not to.

“Yep. Jack fell out of a tree, broke his leg, the fly is still up there, and no matter how much he begs or how many times he orders me I am _not_ going to get it.” Cameron paused. “That tree, man it looks _just_ like the kite eating tree from Charlie Brown. I swear it grinned at me. My momma didn’t raise no fool. It can have the dumb fly.”

“The kite eating tree?” Rodney was laughing now.

“Yeah, it is totally that tree.” Cameron shifted his weight and crossed his legs. “So, am I forgiven?”

“I supposed, seeing as there was an injury involved, although not yours, I have too.” Rodney stopped laughing and frowned in concern. “Jack is alright though, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, it was a nice clean break and he gets Daniel to smother, I mean pamper him for the next couple of weeks.”

Letting out a sigh of relief Rodney nodded. “Good, that’s good.”

“Except it’s not cause I have to go back today, instead of Friday like we’d planned.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No, no…it’s fine.” Rodney stood abruptly and walked to the kitchen. “Are you thirsty? I’m thirsty.”

Damn, Cameron hated this kinda thing. “Look, if you had a phone we could talk, that is if you wanted to.”

“A phone?”

“Yeah, you know it rings, you pick it up and talk to some one really far away?”

Rodney snorted. “Asshole, I know what a phone is.”

“Good, that means I don’t have to pull out the picture book I brought.”

“You want to call me?” Rodney was confused and oddly, happy.

“Duh, why else would I ask you to get a phone, although e-mail is better. And can I ask... have you joined a cult or something because, no phone, computer, tv…it’s kinda suspicious.”

“Yeah, it's the religion of I want to be left alone.” Rodney snipped back.

Cameron smiled, the guy who opened the door was back. “But you’re talking to me.”

Rodney opened his mouth and closed it. “Huh…”

“Gotcha!” Cameron grinned widely. Round one to him.

“Oh, yes, fine, I am talking to you but that doesn’t mean I want to talk to anyone else and if I had a phone other people would call.”

“Ok, what about e-mail?”

“You said it yourself, I don’t have a computer.” Rodney smirked.

“Ah, right.” Cameron stood and walked over to the door, opened it and grabbed a bag he had obviously sat down before knocking. “Here.” He handed the bag to Rodney.

Rodney cautiously reached out and took it. “What is it?”

“Just open the fucking bag.”

“Well, since you are _so_ nice about it.” Rodney opened it and peered inside. “You brought me a laptop.” He was shocked and... yeah, that covered it.

“No, I bought you one. It has all kinds of cool gadgets and Sam said it was what she planned on buying.” Cameron babbled excitedly, missing the wince on Rodney’s face at the mention of Sam’s name. “I put my e-mail in your address book.”

Rodney ran his hand over the cool, sleek gift. He didn’t know what to say. “Thank you.” The words felt inadequate.

“Your welcome. Just let me know you’re alive once in awhile alright?” Cameron brushed it off.

“I can do that.” Rodney looked up and his thousand watt smile practically lit the room.

Cameron felt his knees shake. Man, he just might be heading for trouble. “Good, now are you going to feed me lunch before I have to leave or what?”  



	6. Chapter 6

Days flew by with the speed of flickering light. The only thing that truly marked the passing of the days was the newly emptied spaces on his pill container. Rodney found himself wandering from one tiny room to another and wondered if this profound sense of detachment and loneliness was Mitchell’s fault. If it was, he didn’t understand it.

Being alone hadn’t bothered him; in fact he had found comfort in it. The routine and simplicity of his lifestyle was something that would have never appealed to him when John was alive. But John was…had been larger than life. John was…had been his life, and his joy. In truth, Rodney often felt that John had made him human.

Without John, he had no desire to be a part of the world that his lover had dragged him in to. But now the sleek, slim machine on the table taunted him. It offered him some of the things he hadn’t even realized he’d missed. Some of them were as simple and silly as the feel of his hands flying over the keyboard and others as complex as his work and the companionship Mitchell was offering.

The irony of this situation was not lost on him either; another Colonel, and flyboy, trying to drag him out in to the world. Yet this was totally different at the same time. He’d let John socialize him and to a small extent, a very small one mind you, soften him.

That wasn’t what Mitchell was doing. He was just…. What was he doing? Was he trying to fix him or was he trying to be a friend? It was so easy to want that when Mitchell had been around. He didn’t push, he was just there smiling, laughing and acting as if everything was, for lack of a better word, normal.

It was just that he hadn’t had a friend in so long he wasn’t sure he remembered how to be one, not that it had ever been his forte to begin with, and he was confidante that he was far to broken to ever be fixed.

Rodney sat down and rested his hand on top of the computer He was so damn tired. Arching his back and rolling his neck wasn’t enough. He ran his hand over the computer again and reluctantly pulled it away. He needed a nap and it wasn’t as if it were going anywhere. He’d figure out what to do when he woke up.

 

Cameron slammed his computer shut, kicked his desk and instantly regretted it. “Fuck…” In the last two weeks he’d learned everything he wanted to know about Rodney McKay and then some. Daniel had told him the entire story.

Sheppard and McKay, McKay and Sheppard, John and Rodney, Rodney and John, always said so quickly it seemed as if they were a single entity, their names only one.

That was what bothered him the most. According to Daniel, Rodney’s self-esteem had been nil., hHe’d always bragged about how smart he was, went on and on about it, but his social skills were shit and he had the worst poker face known to man. If he was hurt you knew it, he’d cover it quick enough, but those seconds in between showed exactly how vulnerable he was. He’d never even socialized with his team or the others on the expedition until he and John had become a couple.

Sheppard hadn’t encouraged Rodney to get out on his own; he hadn’t done anything to help the man function socially outside of a couple. He’d, and Cameron could grudgingly admit that there was a possibility that it might have been inadvertent but he didn’t really think so, made himself Rodney’s life line.

Lt. Col. John Sheppard had possessed a hero complex; an over developed one that had even invaded his personal life, he’d saved Rodney from himself except when he died he’d destroyed the man he loved in a way he’d most likely never thought possible.

Cameron wasn’t an idiot, he _knew_ he wasn’t much different; he fought the hero thing too. Every day. Being a great friend or a good lover, was better then being someone’s hero. Matt had taught him that the hard way. He’d been Matt’s best friend, but some where along the line he’d focused on saving him instead of helping and there was a difference.

Cameron switched his screen off and rested his forehead on the desk. There had to be away to help Rodney see that he was strong, vital and completely capable of standing alone. Well not completely alone because he had some seriously concerned friends who couldn’t wait to get back into his life. Not to mention, convince himself he was only worried about Rodney because he wanted the other man’s friendship; which he already knew to be untrue. Well he was trying to do that he could try to cure world hunger, create a mulit-galaxy peace treaty and learn to walk on water.

 

Rodney woke from his nap feeling refreshed and ready to deal with the computer Cameron had given him. He quickly turned it on and connected to the internet. “You have mail.” A generic female voice immediately taunted. Of course he had mail and from the looks of it all but one was from Cameron; a tiny ball of warmth unfurled in his stomach as he click on the first one. It was nice to have a friend again.

He frowned when he saw that there was an e-mail from Elizabeth, seeing the all too familiar address was like a blow to the stomach. Swift, unexpected and it left him gasping for air. Rodney deleted the e-mail, the decision was easy, he wasn’t; make that refused to speak to her anytime soon.

If ever.

Closing his eyes and shuddering violently Rodney took a deep, supposedly cleansing breath then opened Cameron’s e-mail.

_To:Ohsoclever@sgc.org_  
From Camshaft@sgc.org  
Subject: Knock, Knock…answer your damn mail… 

_Jesus Fucking Christ Rodney answer your Goddamn mail before I send that lame ass wanna- be town sheriff to you house to make sure you have a pulse._

_I’ve been shot at, fell in a pile of some sort of animal shit and Daniel was whining about his sex life. IN DETAIL.*shudders* I might need therapy. Or you can loan me some of those nifty drugs you have laying about._

_Yeah. Paper work calls. MAIL ME!!!  
C_

Rodney laughed and hit the reply button.

 _To:Camshaft@sgc.org_  
From:Ohsoclever@sgc.org  
Re: Knock, Knock…answer your damn mail…

So it was a typical day at the office I take it? Also swearing is a sign of a small mind and vocabulary.

www.merriam-webster.com This is a lovely sight, it has a Thesaurus so you can find all kinds of new clever words to use on me next time.

I need my drugs, all of them, no sharing allowed. PX-6492 will shut Daniel

up. Trust me.

Camshaft? Where did that come from and thank you my address is Very Amusing. NOT!

R

 

Rodney stretched after he finished then headed toward the kitchen. He’d slept later then he’d planned and he hadn’t noticed it until he saw the darkness settling around his cabin. He tuned on the lights before heading to the refrigerator. He had to eat to take his meds. Which led him to another thought; he had his monthly ‘therapy’ appt. in two days.

Oh Joy.


	7. Chapter 7

Rodney sat in Stella Mason’s office. His stomach rolled and twisted; he hated these monthly appointments. If he had any other option he would never darken this woman’s doorstep but he needed the prescriptions that would only be doled out by Dr. Millhouse; prescriptions he would only receive if he went to this traumatizing appointments. The only thing that was good about this was the fact that he had both appointments back to back.

He hated waiting. Granted he had the first appointment and they let him in their break room instead of the waiting room but that was beside the point. He couldn’t make his hands stop shaking, his mind from racing or his leg from bouncing. Doctor/patient confidentiality had guaranteed the Doctor’s silence but that fact that everything he talked about was classified bothered them both… not that their conversations helped anyways.

Mason never said anything on the days he felt like talking. Not that he blamed her. She wouldn’t have believed him if he hadn’t brought **all** of his medical records. Records he wasn’t supposed to have copies of, well at least not the ones Carson had signed. They had been the only thing between him a straight jacket and a padded cell.

He twisted in his chair to look at the clock, he wanted this over with. Seconds later Dr. Mason opened the door with her placid-meant-to-be-comforting smile. Every time he saw that smile it reminded him of Kate with her too pale skin, oh so compassionate eyes that couldn’t help someone if her life depended on it.

“How are we today, Rodney?” She walked down the hall and turned into her office as she spoke. Trailing behind her like an obedient dog, after all he wanted his meds; he ignored the use of ‘we’, and gamily murmured fine. Once the door closed all bets were off though.

“We??? How are WE? Did I suddenly develop an extra personality or two?” Rodney threw himself into a chair.

“Well, I guess I know how your mood is today.”

Rodney suddenly felt deflated. He wanted to be at home, nothing new, but this time the reason wasn’t. It was because he hadn’t checked his e-mail. It was an odd feeling; looking forward to something each day again.

“What are you thinking about?”

He looked up at her, eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because you almost smiled.” Stella’s voice was soft, and inquisitive. “What’s changed?”

“Nothing.” He didn’t want to talk about Cameron, much in the same way he didn’t want to talk about John, but for obviously different reasons.

Stella sat back and sighed in frustration. “You are the most difficult man I have ever dealt with. I have never met someone who makes me feel so unprofessional and useless. I want to help you, I know I’ll _never_ be able to relate to the things you have seen or done. But I can at least listen.” Stella leaned forward, she knew this was the wrong way to go about this but she had tried everything else. She reached out and touched Rodney’s hand. “I’ll sit and listen, if you won’t let me be your doctor then let me be your friend.”

“Heh, you are the second person this month who wants to be my friend.” The words tumbled from his lips before he had a chance to stop them. He watched Stella closely and he could tell she wanted to ask, her lips perused so thin they were almost white.

“Go ahead ask.”

“Who? Who have you been talking to?”

“Someone who worked were I used to.”

“You mean in…” Stella stopped she could hardly ever bring herself to say it.

“No, the other place, where it all started.” Rodney felt oddly calm, almost as if he were talking about someone else. “I didn’t know him then. I knew of him, had seen him, even met him once but didn’t know him. John had too.”

Stella froze. Rodney barely ever mentioned his late lover’s name.

“He e-mails me, brought me a computer so I could, and when I didn’t ineffectively threatened to send the sheriff out to make sure I was alive. I laughed. I haven’t laughed since…it is nice having someone who wants to talk to me. Someone who isn’t …them.” Suddenly he wasn’t detached anymore anger hot, furious and still as powerful as the day he’d left Atlantis and the other behind poured through him.

Rodney stood and went toward the window, his body whipcord tight and vibrating visibly. For the first time since she’d met him Stella could see the warrior that had been lying dormant. The one she knew was there, she’d seen his records. You don’t do, what the man standing before her had done, without becoming a fighter. She’d been waiting for the anger, he’d never worked passed it, repressed it and it was eating its way through him in a way more deadly than cancer.

“They took everything away from me. I was sent ‘home’, but… Earth hadn’t been home in along time. In one breath I lost everything; my lover, my home, and the people I thought I could trust.”

The passion and anger ebbed leaving nothing but self-recrimination and sorrow. Rodney leaned his head against the sun-warmed window. “What’s worse is it was my fault.” He closed his eyes against the pain but now, as always, there was no escape. “It was my fault; I wanted to know what was down there. It was always so damn important, finding the source of the energy we needed, weapons to fight The Wraith. This was different, it wasn’t anything that we needed to have, the readings were a curiosity, and I couldn’t let it go.”

He was breaking her. Stella could feel the weight of his pain, even as she shuddered in fear over the mention of an enemy she would never understand. There were times she wished Rodney had never walked through her door, those times involved the mention of aliens so nightmarish, so terrifying that fear threatened to choke her. She couldn’t imagine anyone learning to live with that. Yet Rodney, his lover and their friends had. That was how she knew that he would get past this, if he could live with that type of fear and uncertainty everyday for years he could learn to forgive himself and work past his grief.

She stood, walked over to her patient; instinct once again had her breaking all the rules, and slid in to the small space he’d left next to the window. Stella saw the raw anguish and half-shed tears on his face and wrapped her arms around him.

Rodney stood stiffly for a moment before his entire body began to shake; his arms engulfed her, and dragged her to the floor with him as his legs gave way. She held on; her knees painfully smacked the floor, her legs folding under her gracelessly and in away that was guaranteed to be equally painful later. But she refused to let go.

She rocked him back and forth, her blouse soaked with tears, like a child. She crooned nonsense, stroked his back, whispered that she was there but never once told him it would be alright.

 

 

It felt like hours later, and for all Rodney knew it could have been; when he became aware of where he was and who was hugging him. He drew a ragged breath in through his mouth; it only served to emphasize how raw his throat was, and leaned back.

He was shocked to see that Stella’s face was covered in tears too. As that thought registered he could the damp cloth of his shirt clinging to his shoulder, and the nap of his neck. He didn’t know what to say, he felt relived and uncomfortable all in the same breath. This was the last thing he expected to happen when he’d arrived today.

Stella slid back a bit and leaned over, reaching for the box of tissues that rested on a near by stand. She didn’t know what to say, she had never been such an intimate part of a client’s grief or felt so rewarded for being allowed to share it.

Rodney gratefully accepted the proffered tissue box; turned away, blew his nose and dried his eyes. He pushed himself back against the wall and watched as Stella carefully moved her legs.

“So what do we do now?” She asked calmly.

“I miss him. I miss him every second of every fucking day.” He was drained; so wrung out that his skin felt brittle.

“I know you do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a life or friends.”

Rodney leaned his head back against the wall. He knew she was right, he wasn’t stupid but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to hear it from someone else. “His name is Cameron and…he makes me feel and I know, I know that I like talking to him…”

“But you feel guilty.”

“Yeah.”

“I know this sounds trite and you have heard it a million times before, but I am telling you the truth when I say that happens to anyone who has lost a partner. I am also telling you the truth, and you know deep within yourself that this is true too, John wouldn’t want you to live this way.”

“I know that too, Genius here, but I can’t breath, sleep, I close my eyes and I see him smiling, laughing, yelling, his face flushed with love and passion. I see him dying. I feel his blood pouring over my hands and soaking the knees of my pants, I smell it despite the rain and the mud. Here,” Rodney pounds his fist against his chest and then his forehead. “Always, like it hasn’t been years but now.”

Stella didn’t know how to respond to that, “Rodney what you experienced is something outside the norm, there is no precedent for what happened to John. Even random acts of violence, gay bashings have something, a concept I can grasp. John’s death was senseless, and your friend’s actions. However wrong or right, they thought they were helping you. I am not asking you to forget or even forgive but you have to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t your fault.”

Rodney didn’t say anything; he was watching her intently so she continued. “They sent you away from your home, the one place that you should have been able to grieve with their support and love. You feel abandoned, but that doesn’t mean everyone will do the same. Trust is a hard thing, and asking you to do that, plus forgive yourself seems monumental. But this gentleman, Cameron, is offering you something you need. “

He ran a hand over his face, stood abruptly and headed for the door. He turned for a moment, “I need to go home. This is….” Quickly walked out of the building, started his car and left like his ass was on fire.

 

~*~

Cameron waited not so patiently. He’d managed to finagle a promise out of Rodney. So here he sat, ten at night, waiting for the man to ping him so they could chat but Rodney was a no show; like he didn’t already feel like a twelve year old girl. On top of that was an overwhelming sense of dread, he knew Rodney had an appointment with his shrink. Cameron rested his head on his desk. He didn’t know how he was going to do this; he didn’t have a single fucking clue. It made him feel helpless and out of control; he hated that more then anything.


	8. Chapter 8

Cameron wasn’t really a patient man, sure if it was a mission but that was on a completely different level then his personal life; his grandma had tried…’Boy the God Lord gave you nothing but time, now sit down, stop fidgeting and wait.’ Her voice whispered in his ear every time he stated to complain and twitch about waiting but it was to no avail. Grandma Mitchell had well and truly failed to teach him that virtue.

Which was bad new for Rodney.

He’d finagled three days off, tossed a bag in his trunk and was on his way to see what the hell happened to his friend. Of course, he was currently trapped behind the requisite traffic situation for anyone who _really_ wanted to get somewhere.

An eighty year old with a tank, a chatty Cathy with a phone stuck to their ear, a newly minted teenager driver and the candidate for road rage; which was his role in this drive.

But he didn’t want to think about anything right now, he didn’t want to think about the fact that Rodney wasn’t answering his phone or that he could die on the way to the lake. The possibility that Rodney had ran away again or that Rodney had given up completely was too much.

Because of him, because he had pushed him too far to fast. Cameron looked around, whipped his car to the right and stepped on the gas. At least if he was pulled over, he could always claim it was a military emergency.

 

 

Rodney sat woodenly on his bed. He was so tired. Everything hurt; even his clothing was too heavy and rough. His session was still weighing heavily on his mind. Dragging him to places he would rather not be, forcing him to see things, hear things that he fought against. Things his meds helped keep buried with their mind numbing capabilities.

He knew what was happening around him, he could hear the birds outside, the wind pushing about the tree near his window. He just felt…detached; as if this was all happening to someone else.

Everything was changing; it was to fast, too hard and too much. Rodney looked at the bottles lined up like little tiny orange plastic soldiers on his nightstand and for a moment thought about how easy it would be. A hand full of that, a hand full of this and he could fall asleep. He could sleep through it all and when he woke up he would be away from all of this.

The mess that was living. But he couldn’t, if it were truly that easy, truly that simple he would have done it back in the cheesy hotel room he’d stayed in when he first returned to Earth. He couldn’t do it then and he couldn’t do it now.

With a groan, he pushed himself off his bed and walked outside. He looked up at the darkening sky, and the faint twinkle of far off places. He missed being out there, and he missed being with John. But Stella was right.

John was dead, he could hide here until the world faded into dust and it wouldn’t change that. So he could stay here and wait for death, or he could get back out there. Go back to what he loved even before he’d loved John. Go back to living, even if it was a mess.

Rodney looked up at the sky again and made the only choice he could.

He was going home.

 

It was late when Cameron pulled on to the graveled, pock marred driveway. He’d called and called but there was still no answer, so seeing the lights in the cabin and a shadow moving away from the window was a relief. It also pissed him off.

He turned off the car, took a few cleansing breaths and started up the walk. The warring emotions were making him slightly nauseas and he can’t even imagine what the hell is going on inside the cabin. He wants Rodney to be alright, he wants that with every breath he takes but he also wants there to be a reason for the silence.

Except Cameron is used to not getting what he wants, and this isn’t about his issues or being in love with a man who was still grieving for his late lover. And it was love, love at first fucking sight, he figured that out during the century it took to get here and it fucking sucked.

This was about Rodney and what ever the hell was wrong now, and how he could fix it.

If he could fix it.

He could feel the anxiety rolling around in his chest, and he wondered if he was strong enough, selfless enough for this. He was also pretty sure he was going to have to start palming Rodney’s valium before long.

The door opened as Cameron’s foot landed on the first step, and he held his breath. Rodney looked fine, he looked…calm.

Rodney had a suitcase. In fact he had several.

“Are you going to help me load these into your car or just stand there?”

Cameron was baffled but, he moved forward swiftly and picked up two of them. “Help?”

“Yes. Help.” Rodney tossed him a exasperated look. “You said you had a spare room and I am not leaving anything here for the locals to steal. So be a good boy and carry these. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

With a laugh Cameron followed him, he still wanted answers. And they had better be good ones, but he could wait to ask them until Rodney was trapped in the car with him, an hour down the road and no escape in sight.  



	9. Chapter 9

Rodney watched the car drive past; he counted them, one pair of lights after the other, all zipping somewhere with a purpose, a meaning and all he had was the desire to go home. That desire tasted like hope. Or like he thought hope would if it were a tangible thing.

Cameron had questions, how could he not? Rodney’s life was taking a total one-eighty and he wasn’t even sure he could answer what was coming his way. All he knew was that he was ready to try living again.

He didn’t know if he was ready for the drama/trauma of trying to see everybody yet, and he fully intended to hide out in Cameron’s house for a day or two or month until he was ready but he needed to try.

There was no going back, not now. He remembered what it was like to have someone; to trust them, to be apart of their lives and he missed it. And really that was what home was. Not Atlantis, not the SGC, and not John. Not anymore. It wasn’t so much a place as it was a state of being.

“So…” Cameron’s voice drawled slowly through the silence. He’d waited patiently. Oh, so fucking patiently for Rodney to say fucking anything but he hadn’t. No, he’d just climbed in the car and settled in for the ride and not talking. He searched for the right approach. “You didn’t call.”

“I know.” Rodney didn’t feel like giving an inch yet. How could he when he still had no answers and a raw hole inside of him the size of a galaxy?

“You checked your voice mail though?” The pissy feeling was coming back with a vengeance, and Cameron knew it was leaking through but he didn’t give a fuck. He’d been worried.

“About ten minutes before you pulled up,” Rodney waved his hand, “Okay, more like twenty but you were already on the way and had issued multiple death threats; so I figured what was the point of calling and packed.”

Cameron felt his mind stutter and go red. He didn’t say a word as he pulled over and inched to a halt. He unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and climbed out of the car. Rodney watched him curiously, but silently and Cameron didn’t care to explain. He needed to get out the car before he strangled the errant scientist.

He paced back and forth in front of the car muttering to himself, playing out several slightly disturbing scenarios in his mind before muttering to God about how much he hated him and how he’d never, ever been bad enough to deserve this before climbing back into the driver’s seat. He took a deep breath, turned toward Rodney again and simple stated, “When you promise to call, fucking call. I thought you were dead or something. Okay?”

Rodney felt a twinge of guilt, “I can do that.”

Cameron nodded and started the car again. “Good.”

 

 

“Hey, we’re here.” Cameron was gently shaking him.

Rodney sat up, stretched as best as he could in the car and felt two vertebrae pop. He winced, looked around and saw a row of cookie cutter suburban houses dispersed in a slightly staggered manor, sitting entirely to close together for his tastes.

“It’s a rental.” Cameron quietly explained as he went around to the trunk. “The neighbors are good about mowing if I am gone and the landlord is retired SGC so he gets that I am gone a lot, so he doesn’t mind having the water and stuff included in the rent.”

“Huh,” That explained the total lack of personality the outside of the house had. But it was a house in the suburbs not a cabin by the lake so it was more like real life than a extended vacation so who was he to complain. Not that he wouldn’t, later after he’d had some sleep in a real bed.

He was exhausted despite having fallen asleep in the car. Emotional overload, too much stimulation, not enough caffeine or drugs either for that matter his body and mind were bruised. He wanted to sleep for a fucking week.

“Come on,” Cameron was suddenly next to him, bracing him so that he didn’t tilt with the rest of the world. Tall, strong and warm Rodney’s sleep rugged mind realized that Cameron was more than just an amazing friend. He mattered in a way no one had in a very long time. But it was a revelation that was to profound, too important for him to delve into in his state, especially since he could barely string two words together and his body felt as heavy as Atlantis.

Cameron struggled with his keys; Rodney wasn’t nearly as heavy as he should have been. Not for a man his height and that was what was making everything awkward. That and the way Rodney’s hand kept brushing innocently against his ass. It was distracting as hell and it made him feel like a pervert to boot.

Once the door was opened and kicked shut behind them he led Rodney down the hall toward his room. He hadn’t made up the bed in the guest room, and he wasn’t about to try when Rodney obviously need to be in bed. He would make up the room, sleep in it himself and move Rodney there tomorrow. Their weird three-legged race type shuffling made him happy he lived in a ranch style house.

Thankfully, his door was open. Sadly, his room was a mess but with careful maneuvering he’d managed to get them around most of it without tripping. His bed was unmade, but he’d hardly slept in them after changing them the day before. Besides it was a bed, it had pillows, sheets and blankets. In his condition, Rodney could hardly be picky.

He shifted Rodney on to the bed, laid him down, and pulled off his shoes and belt. He wasn’t comfortable undressing the other man, he could justify it all he wanted but he just couldn’t bring himself to. After covering him up, Cameron gave into impulse and brushed his lips over Rodney’s forehead than scrambled out of the room.

Rodney was in his house. In his bed. Yeah, he was fucked.


	10. Chase the Sun, Chapter 9

Cameron hadn’t slept a wink, not in days, more specifically since he’d brought Rodney home with him. He was tired too, exhausted to the point of collapse, but sleep still escaped him. He was on edge, he was always watching himself, and terrified he would do something or say something stupid and drive Rodney back into hiding. Daniel told he was an idiot, but then again Daniel always told him that, so it was nothing new.

He also felt like he was waiting for something to happen, he didn’t know what but he was waiting. Rodney hadn’t left the house yet, not once in the week he’d been there but he’d had no qualms about making sure Cameron knew exactly what he wanted. Apparently he’d missed fast food. Cameron sighed and rested his fingers on his temples. It was a quite day at the office, his paper work was piled high and it was definitely something he should be working on instead of contemplating going to the infirmary for a fucking sedative and sleeping there for the next twelve hours.

A knock on the door startled him, he swore softly as he hit his knees on the desk. “Come in.” The door opened and the last person he expected to see walked through, well maybe not the last, but pretty damn close. He stood quickly bumping his knees again, “Doctor Weir? When did you arrive?”

Elizabeth smiled and warmly shook the hand Cameron offered her. “Oh, late last night.” She walked over and sat next to his desk. Cameron couldn’t help the trickle of fear that ran through him, Rodney wasn’t ready yet and he hoped she wasn’t here to push the issue.

“I can practically hear what you are thinking.” She cocked her head and looked at him, he swore she could see everything he was feeling and thinking. He hated that.

“And what would that be Ma’am?”

“I am not going to ask you about talking Rodney into seeing me. I can promise you that.” She sat back, her face now drawn and white. He could tell she was worried but so was he. This woman, as nice as she was, had made everything infinitely worse for Rodney. “I just wanted to meet you again, and ask you personally how he was doing.”

Cameron was puzzled, meet him again? He grimaced; the headache that was threatening earlier was now pounding painfully behind his eyes. “He seems good, I have no idea what he is working on but I know he has been talking to Sam over the computer.” He scratched his eyebrow and thought another moment, “He seems to be taking less meds and he still refuses to leave the house but…”

Elizabeth stood abruptly and hugged him. “It’s alright, I just found out what I wanted to know. Thank you, Colonel Mitchell.” Her hand brushed over his shoulder as she turned and left as quickly as she’d arrived leaving him even more tired and puzzled than before. He needed a fucking nap.

 

Rodney snapped the screen on his laptop down and sighed. He liked being here but he hated waiting for Cameron to get home and he really hated the idea that Cameron could be off world getting into trouble while he was sitting down and wasting time. And he was working Millennium Problems again and compared to what he used to work on it was nothing. He closed his eyes, the cool blue walls of Atlantis along with the accompanying hum that was everywhere in the city invaded him. Nothing he could possibly do was as challenging or satisfying.

He looked out the window, the sun was bright even though it was almost five in the afternoon and suddenly he wanted to be out there moving. He missed walking by the lake, and the sense of peace the water gave him. He knew he wouldn’t find that here, just like he wouldn’t find anything as challenging as Atlantis, but it was time to make due. He dragged his sneakers out from under the bed, put them on and quickly walked out the back door before he changed his mind. He came here because he was ready for a change and sitting in the spare room of Cameron’s house worrying about the man wasn’t going to make that happen.

It was dark when Rodney made his way up the walk to Cameron’s house, he wasn’t sure how far he’d walked but he was tired, sore and extremely hungry. Also he was convinced that small children were tools of Satan, if he believed in hell that was, especially after some kid kicked him in the shin for not wanting to push him on the swings at the park he’d found. Rodney looked over at the house and saw the windows were still dark and Cameron’s car was missing, fear instantly washed over him. He tried to rationalize with himself, maybe Cameron was driving around looking for him, after all it was terribly late but he couldn’t make it happen.

The key felt heavy in his hands, as he tried and failed to unlock the door, he took a deep breath and tried again but his hands were shaking so badly. He didn’t like the thoughts running through his mind, the images of blood and despair, but he couldn’t push them away either. He took another deep breath and managed to open the door this time and rushed into get the phone when he tripped over a pair of Cameron’s shoes. He stopped; they hadn’t been there earlier, looked around and heard a loud snore coming from the couch.

Cameron was sleeping, one arm thrown across his face, mouth open, the other laying on his stomach while still in uniform. Worry and fear instantly melted away and were replaced by something else... he wasn’t sure what but it had been so long since he’d been close to anyone he wasn’t surprise. Without another thought Rodney walked into Cameron’s room, grabbed a blanket from the bed and placed it over his friend.


End file.
